


The Seven Mysteries of Hasetsu

by spare



Series: Life, Love, & Lots of Yummy Food [7]
Category: Yuri!!! on Ice (Anime)
Genre: Episode 4, Fluff, Food, Fugashi, Gen, Halloween, Halloween Special, Hasetsu, Innuendo, M/M, Mention of decapitation and murder and gore in Chapter 4, Mystery, Nanafushigi, Original Characters - Freeform, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, Seven Mysteries, Squid Manjuu, Story-Telling, Summer, Supernatural - Freeform, VictUuri, gachapon
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-10-13
Updated: 2017-11-15
Packaged: 2019-01-16 19:37:07
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 6
Words: 7,793
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12349305
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/spare/pseuds/spare
Summary: A self-indulgent fic written for Halloween, picking up from the end ofRainbow Bear. Still set a month before the block championships, between episodes 4 and 5 of the anime.Yuuri and Victor investigateThe Seven Mysteries of Hasetsu:#1: The Little Girl of Crescent Pine Forest#2: The Riddle of the Scroll#3: The Fortune-Telling Gachapon Machine#4: The Ninja's Shadow#5: The Voice in the Well#6: The Laughing Ogre-Tile Bridge#7: ???????(The final mystery will be posted by the end of November.)





	1. Midoriko

**Author's Note:**

> ... So I guess this story picks up immediately after [Rainbow Bear](http://archiveofourown.org/works/11916927)? But with Yuuri and Victor looking into supposedly supernatural phenomena.
> 
> Content notes/warnings will be provided before the chapter concerned. For the entire fic, however, please expect supernatural/horror elements, as well as gratuitous Russian, Saga-ben, and standard Japanese (Hover the cursor on the text for the translation!).
> 
>  **Disclaimer:** We have Mitsurou Kubo, Sayo Yamamoto, Kenji Miyamoto, and Studio MAPPA to thank for the masterpiece that is _Yuri!!! on Ice_. The story below is a free fanwork published solely for entertainment.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This first chapter contains gratuitous innuendo, and spoilers for the Russian fairy tale _The Stone Flower_ and its sequel, _The Master Craftsman_.

**_Hasetsu, still the first Saturday of August_ **

“Victor, are you sure?” Yuuri once again asks, his cheeks feeling fit to combust.

“I've said it already, haven't I? Do as you like, Yuuri,” Victor replies with an indulgent smile. “It's only fair, seeing as I've tasted yours.”

Yuuri needn't be told twice. “All right.”

Victor's banana looks almost dauntingly big up close; Breathing in deep, Yuuri delicately nibbles at the tip for a moment before taking the entire thing in his mouth. A trickle of milk spills from his lips, and he licks it all up, not letting a single drop go to waste.

_Delicious._

A strangled sound seemingly spills from Victor's own. Yuuri looks up from his half-eaten kakigoori to find his coach intently studying an old promotional poster by the seaside kiosk's countertop. Albeit faded, it depicts a cartoon squid and sea urchin posing in front of a camera with Hasetsu Castle in the background.

“That's the 'Seven Mysteries of Hasetsu Photo Campaign',” Yuuri translates, indicating the text on the poster. “The tourism board ran this eight—no, seven years ago, I think? When you skated _Firebird_?” And broke the world record for the highest short program score _twice_ within the same competitive season, Yuuri's inner Victor Nikiforov fanboy would have gone on to gush, but really, it goes without saying.

(Incidentally, that was also the same season Yuuri had skated his All-Japan Championships-winning, excessively glittery costume-wearing _Lohengrin_. To this day he suspects he'd owed part of his victory to all those sequins bedazzling the judges' eyes—literally.)

“Oh—er— seven,” Victor confirms with a cough, turning towards Yuuri. “That was seven years back, I believe.”

Undoubtedly seven, or so Nishigori would corroborate later on, further recalling that it had been Yuuko-chan's uncle's ex-wife's graphic designer cousin, now based in Fukuoka, who'd come up with the promo. “It was pretty straightforward: all eligible participants—anyone sixteen and up—were to take pictures of Hasetsu's 'seven mysteries',” exposits the man. “Then they were supposed to post the photos on Instagram, hashtag—I don't know, 'Hasetsu no nanafushigi'?— just before Obon.”

“'Obon',” Victor repeats, scooping up the last of his kakigoori. “That's All Souls' Day for the Japanese, yes? Mrs. Katsuki told me.”

“Out here it's held around the middle of August, so it'll be ten days from today, thereabouts,” nods Yuuri. “Anyway, the photo campaign kicked off right after the harvest festival in July, but it never really caught on. A lot more people took pictures of the Saturday night market instead.”

“Yeah, I don't think anyone even posted all seven of the so-called 'mysteries',” says Nishigori. “No winner was announced, and the prize—a month's supply of squid buns and a giant 'Dark Squid' plush doll—ended up being given away for free.”

Victor's face falls. “That's too bad. Now I almost wish I'd been around to promote it. Or to participate, even.”

“Us, too!” Axel, Lutz, and Loop chime in, with Makkachin giving an affirmative _“Rowf!”_ beside them. “We definitely would have won, no problem!”

“Heh, of course you would've,” their proud father declares fondly. “I highly doubt you'd be thrilled to get the Ankoku Ika plushie, though. None of us were.” (Ubiquitous statues notwithstanding, the tourism board's efforts to make their official mascots 'cute' have always achieved the opposite effect.)

Yuuri adjusts his glasses. “Well, an old farmer did step up to claim it. Something about the 'evil squid' making for an excellent scarecrow, if I remember correctly.”

“So the squid became a scarecrow?” asks Loop.

“Yes,” Nishigori replies, adopting a mock ominous tone as he leans forward and points his finger up conspiratorially. “And even though the farmer's long since gone, rumor has it that the plushie's still around, scaring crows and other field pests— _for eternity_. The eighth mystery of Hasetsu, so to speak.”

“And the other seven?” Lutz inquires, gulping visibly. “You've got to tell us about those, Papa!”

“Yeah!” agrees Axel with a nod, her short pigtails bobbing. “Inquiring six-year-old minds need to know!”

  


Inquiring six-year-old minds also need to eat, however, so Nishigori only accedes to their request over stir-fried soba bread and ajian gyouza. Victor and Yuuri, stomachs still sated from the kakigoori, help man the counter in the half-hour or so it would take for Nishigori to individually recount—with varying degrees of embellishment—Hasetsu's Seven Mysteries.

  


**Mystery #1: The Little Girl of Crescent Pine Forest  
Mikazuki no Matsubara no Ko (三日月の松原の子)**

_“We call her Midoriko: the little girl of Crescent Pine Forest,” Nishigori begins. “Deep within the woods along the eastern coast she dwells, guiding travelers who may have lost their way.”_

“Unless that traveler is an asshat,” Yuuri would qualify on the way home, briskly walking down one of the winding paths of said woods with Victor and Makkachin. (A bit of a detour from their usual route, admittedly, but it still leads out into a road that leads to another road that leads to Yu-topia... eventually.) “You know, one of those people who leave cigarette butts and other trash? _They_ get lost.”

Victor stares at him, blue eyes rapt. “They're never heard from again, Yuuri?”

“Er, nothing so permanent,” Yuuri sheepishly returns. “They all turn up the next morning just outside the forest, claiming they couldn't get out or contact anyone the entire time.” He cracks a small smile, their folded umbrella (with his duffle bag hanging off of the shaft) balanced over one shoulder. “Of course, nine times out of ten they would also admit to having been drunk, so...” Yuuri shrugs.

“Ah. But for those who aren't asshats, this 'Mikado'—”

“Midoriko.”

“This _Mi-do-ri-ko_ ,” Victor retries, carefully enunciating the name, “shows up and helps them out?”

“More or less?” Yuuri rejoins. “Or rather, I guess it's more accurate to say that _they_ find _her_.”

“Eh?”

“You'll see soon enough. We're almost—” Yuuri suddenly stops and looks around, realizing that they are, in fact, “here. I mean, this is the place, and that—” He points the umbrella at a child-sized jut of rock long overgrown with weeds and moss, “—is Midoriko.”

Victor and Makkachin slowly approach the stone. 'Midoriko' sits in between a fork in the wooded path, nestled against the trunk of a tall pine tree. Even less than ten paces away, dappled midday sunlight filtering through the leaves, the rock could still be mistaken for a little girl with long green hair kneeling down as if to pray, or sleep, or play hide and seek.

“Not quite what we were expecting, isn't she, Makkachin?” Victor breathes.

The poodle gives an equally subdued _wuff_ in response. Thereafter Makkachin noses at the exposed foot of the rock, giving it a tentative sniff.

“The moss on Midoriko-san always faces north,” Yuuri goes on to explain, coming up behind them. “From here, if you follow the path where the same moss is growing, you can find your way out of the forest easily enough.”

“I see,” Victor says. “And the tale? How much of it is true, would you say?”

“Your guess is as good as mine.” Yuuri ponders for a bit. “Well, perhaps there really once was an orphan girl named Midoriko. And perhaps she did implore the spirits of Crescent Pine Forest to return her family to her, and got 'adopted' by them instead. Or, you know,” He gestures towards Midoriko-san again, “perhaps someone merely came up with that yarn after seeing this rock.”

“She does seem eerily lifelike,” Victor opines. “And her story reminds me of a fairy tale we have back in Russia: Kamennyj Tsvetok; 'The Stone Flower.' I don't suppose you've heard of it?”

Yuuri nods. “I've seen the ballet. It's about a craftsman who gets so enthralled by that flower that he abandons his loved ones for years, right?”

“Yes. 'Though when you put it like that, Yuuri, Danilo sounds like a thoughtless ass.”

“I think he was, to be honest,” Yuuri confides. “His fiancée saves him in the end, and they live happily ever after; but really, I'd have liked it if the woman just gave up on him and moved on.”

Victor's shoulders shrug. “Well, _I_ like how Katya chose to stand by him,” the man airily rejoins. “True love triumphs and all that. So much more romantic.”

Were his arms unoccupied, Yuuri would have folded them. As it is, he settles on narrowing his eyes instead. “Romantic or not,” he huffs, “Katya still deserves so much better.”

“She got the love of her life back,” Victor replies. “That should be good enough, shouldn't it?”

 _No._ Are they arguing over fairy tales now? Seriously? “... Maybe,” Yuuri partially concedes. “ _If_ Danilo spends the rest of their days making it up to her.”

“I am of the belief that that's what he did.” After a moment Victor takes out his smartphone and holds it up, glancing back at Yuuri. “May I?”

“Douzo—ah— go ahead.” As Victor snaps a picture of himself and Makkachin sitting next to Midoriko (#hasetsu 7 mysteries) Yuuri appends, mildly amused, “Wait, you're not thinking of completing the photo campaign, are you?”

“I wasn't, but now that you mention it...” Victor tips him a wink and a smile. “What do you say, Yuuri? Shall we extend our date?”

Yuuri's face burns (Victor couldn't _really_ mean a date, could he?), but he nods slowly. “Sure. But only after lunch, okay?”

(As if he could resist Victor's imploring eyes a second time.)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> You made it to the seventh fic! Thank you, and congratulations!<3
> 
> I'm taking a LOT of liberties with this particular installment, least of which are Victor and Yuuri's figure skating careers some seven years back (I'll go back and edit them later if they end up getting debunked). All mistakes/inaccuracies are mine. Please take whatever I've written here with a grain of salt, and feel free to look into them if you're so inclined.
> 
> 'Obon' or simply 'Bon' is the annual Japanese holiday to honor the dead, much like the Chinese Ghost Festival. In most parts of Kyuushuu, it's held mid-August.
> 
> Ajian gyouza are dumplings (gyouza) with horse mackerel (aji) paste (an) filling. 
> 
> I based Hasetsu's 'Crescent Pine Forest' off of Karatsu's Niji no Matsubara (Rainbow Pine Forest), which, according to the locals, has its own seven mysteries.
> 
>  **Translations:**  
>  Hasetsu no nanafushigi - the seven mysteries/wonders of Hasetsu  
> Ankoku Ika - literally 'Dark Squid'


	2. Scroll Painting

**Mystery #2: The Riddle of the Scroll  
Kakemono no Nazo (掛物の謎)**

_“Our next mystery is a scroll painting,” Nishigori goes on. “It's just an ordinary painting at first glance: a seascape of Hasetsu Bay at sunrise, but its accompanying riddle—and the secret the answer would reveal—is anything but.”_

“Oh, I know that one,” Yuuri's mother puts forth, helping Victor and Yuuri clear up the next table's dishes—along with their own—at Yu-topia's perennially crowded dining hall. “Well, everyone did, back in the day: ‘If a black-tailed sea bird dropped a white stone into the golden sea, what will the stone become?’”

“I remember that, too,” Yuuri's father chimes in from behind the counter. “Rather than a riddle, though, it's more of a trick question, isn't it?”

“It stumped a fair lot of us either way,” Yuuri's mother recalls. “Are you going to see the painting, then?”

“That's the plan,” Victor chipperly replies, placing his tray of empty dishes on the dividing countertop for Yuuri's father to carry over to the sink. “As always, thank you for a wonderful meal, Mrs. Katsuki.”

Yuuri's mother beams. “Ne za chto, Vicchan,” she haltingly returns; then, seemingly remembering something, turns to Yuuri. “Ah, but if you boys are heading there today, perhaps I should have you bring 'that'.”

Yuuri blinks. “'That'?”

  


“Now _this_ is the stuff,” declares 76-year-old Furude Keiko of Umidori Textiles, regarding their present—a bottle of  Black Pearl awamori—with approval. “Thoughtful girl, Hiroko. I really must visit Yu-topia one of these days.”

Yuuri bows. “We would be pleased to have you with us.”

“Pshaw, no need to be so formal,” says the spry septuagenarian. “I'm still 'Furu-ba' to you young 'uns. Come to take a gander at the ol' scroll, have you? Follow me.”

Yuuri and Victor (sans Makkachin, regrettably, last seen dozing under his favorite table in Yu-topia after wolfing down a bowlful of kibble) duly follow Furu-ba through the narrow hallway adjoining the storefront and into a well-lit sitting room.

“We used to display it out front, of course, up until a couple of years back,” Furu-ba relays along the way. “But Nanami—you remember Nanami, Yuuri-kun? Right now she's in Busan—she got us this deal to show off locally made handbags and stuffed toys and netsuke and such, so we had to make room and— well, here we are.” Stepping aside, she sweeps a hand towards the sitting room's solitary alcove; there on the wall, just above a squat ceramic vase and a small chest of drawers, hangs the scroll.

“It's beautiful,” Victor states admiringly.

It is. Elegantly rendered on the canvas, captured in shades of white and black and gold, is a panoramic view of the bay of Hasetsu with the sun rising triumphantly on the horizon. And written in black ink on the far left margin, in fine, flowing script:

黒しり海烏は  
黄金の海に  
白石を降ろしたら  
あの石はどう？

Which may be translated thus:

If a black-tailed sea bird  
dropped a white stone  
into the golden sea,  
what will the stone become?

“You two know the answer already, don't you?” asks Furu-ba. “'Cause I'm about to spoil it for you if you don't. Well?”

“'Wet',” Yuuri answers promptly. “The stone becomes wet, naturally.”

“Mr. Katsuki was right; it _is_ a trick question,” Victor adds. “But why put it there in the first place?”

“You weren't told?” their elderly host inquires. “That's the real riddle of the scroll, I daresay. Mainly 'cause we only see the 'golden sea' in the painting, yes? No stones or sea birds, black-tailed or otherwise.”

Taking another look at the painting, Yuuri indeed finds that there isn't. “Well,” he ventures after a moment, frowning slightly, “going by what Nishigori said, the answer's supposed to reveal them, I think? So 'wet' should be key.”

“'Wet'...?” Victor's eyes light up. “I see! Wait, but that would mean—”

“Splashing water on the painting?” Furu-ba grins. “Let's try it out, why don't we?”

Despite Yuuri's initial protests ( _“But it's a family heirloom!”_ ), they do; and in due time Furu-ba brings out a spray bottle she uses for her orchids and gleefully tells Victor to “Go on; spray away, sonny!”

His coach complies. Yuuri covers his own eyes as the scroll is spritzed; Furu-ba may have assured them that it's perfectly all right to do so ( _“ Yoka yoka! The canvas is oilcloth, and the artist mixed a special type of resin into the paint, see?”_), but he's still got his doubts. He'd really rather not witness the defacement of a priceless family heirloom if he could help it.

Curiosity does eventually win out, however. At Victor's sudden exclamation of surprise, Yuuri peeks between his fingers, soon seeing a faint outline appear above the sea on the upper middle portion of the painting. The outline grows sharper as he watches, more defined, until at last the painted figure of a black-tailed gull in flight could plainly be perceived. Falling from its beak is a small smear of ivory: the 'white stone' of the riddle.

“Sympathetic ink,” Furu-ba says simply. “One that shows up with water. That said, it took decades for someone to work up the nerve to try it; the painting's been in the family since the Taishou era, and although the answer's obvious enough, in hindsight, one never really knows—and even then, it was during a drunken bet.” She spreads her hands. “As to the identity of the artist, that's yet another mystery; some say he's yosonmon—an outsider, maybe even a foreigner, while others insist that he—or she—was kin. But over the years we've come to refer to the artist as 'Shiraishi'.”

“'Shiraishi' means 'white stone',” Yuuri translates for Victor's benefit. Briefly he touches the moist surface of the freshly revealed 'stone' in the painting, and then the corresponding kanji in the riddle. “There are other ways to read them, of course, but— Eh?” Yuuri blinks. “Furu-ba,” he goes on, drawing his hand back wonderingly, “has anyone ever applied water to the writing itself?”

“No,” Furu-ba replies. “But why do you— _Ah!_ ” Eyes wide, she stares at what has appeared on the scroll's leftmost margin. “Victor-kun, the spray!”

“On it.” Victor sprays water on the rest of the calligraphy, then steps back.

There's new writing, tiny but perfectly legible, to the right of the first and third lines on the margin:

九 と 四 から みどり  
いし の にし

“Furigana?” Furu-ba squints up at the text. “No, wait, that's not it. ‘Ku to shi kara midori ishi no nishi,’” she reads aloud.

“That's ‘nine and four west from the green stone,’ literally,” translates Yuuri. _One more thing to puzzle over._

  


But for another time, or so it would seem, as Furu-ba is soon called away by one of the shop's employees to answer a phone call from overseas. Victor and Yuuri linger long enough to photograph the scroll before leaving, exchanging brief nods with a still-engaged Furu-ba on the way out.

“'Midori', huh,” Victor would later echo thoughtfully, en route to the next destination of their 'seven mysteries' itinerary. “Hm, isn't that the name of the rock we visited earlier, Yuuri?”

“It's 'Midoriko', actually, but yes, it's close enough,” Yuuri replies with a nod. “I forgot to mention it before, but 'midori' is the Japanese word for green. And since Midoriko is covered in green moss—” 

“That's how she got her name; I see,” Victor returns. He's silent for a second or so, contemplating, and then: “You don't suppose—?”

“Yes?”

“Nothing, it's just,” Victor shrugs, falling into step beside Yuuri, “the 'green stone' in that new verse in the scroll? It might be Midoriko, is what occurred to me.” Victor lets out a little laugh. “Wouldn't that be quaint?”

“It would, yeah,” Yuuri concurs. The verse resurfaces in his mind: _‘nine and four west from the green stone’_.

Yes, it would be very quaint indeed.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Awamori is distilled rice liquor, i.e. 'rice brandy'.
> 
> I am compelled to stress that splashing water on family heirlooms, scrolls especially, should NOT be done. Also, if anyone knows the title/number of that episode in Detective Conan (it's called 'Case Closed' in the US, I think?) with a scroll that reveals writing (or a tiger?) when it's rained on, please tell me. But yeah, my _very_ vague memory of it is what inspired the scroll featured here. ( **Edit:** No one saw any gulls carrying things with their talons here. Gulls carry things with their beaks. ^///^)
> 
>  **Translations:**  
>  Ne za chto - Russian for 'It's nothing'/'You're welcome.'  
> Yoka yoka! - Saga-ben (also Hakata-ben) for '(It's) all right!'/'(It's) A-OK!'


	3. Gachapon

**Mystery #3: The Fortune-Telling Gachapon Machine  
Gacha Uranai (ガチャ占い)**

_“Inside Amamiya, Hasetsu's oldest candy shop,” continues Nishigori, “there's a really old gachapon—I guess you call them 'capsule toys' in English?—machine. It's been around since we were kids, since your grandparents were kids, even; all the way back to when the current owner's great-great-grandmother ran the store. That's our third Hasetsu mystery: because it's said that the color of the capsule you get predicts your luck for the next seven days.”_

“Eh, it's all a load of bull, if you ask me,” asserts twenty-nine-year-old Amamiya Tohru, Amamiya Ichigo's great-great-grandson and current proprietor of Amamiya Candy Shop. “But ‘what keeps 'em comin' won't have me complainin',’ as bacchan used to say.” The man cheerfully salutes them both. “Best of luck.”

“Let's hope,” Yuuri smilingly rejoins, at the same time Victor chirps out a charming, “Arigatou!”

“It's like the grandpa of the  gacha-gacha machines at Yu-topia, isn't it?” Victor remarks, peering at Amamiya's famed capsule toy machine. Large and clunky, vaguely resembling a coin-operated laundry machine (if laundry machines were ever painted two-tone white and red, that is), the contraption is a veritable museum piece; remarkably well-maintained and little changed from when it first graced the candy shop's interior back in 1971. “So how does the fortune-telling work, exactly?”

“You just put the coins in,” Yuuri says with a shrug, demonstrating accordingly. “Some of the older folks would suggest clapping your hands together while bowing, but there's no actual ceremony to it. Afterwards you turn this knob—” He does so, and there is a muffled clatter and a thump, “—and presto: you can now collect your gachapon.” Bending over, Yuuri picks up the newly-deposited capsule toy—one with a green plastic shell, incidentally—from the basket at the bottom of the machine. “Traditionally, green means one will do well in school or in one's job. It can also mean 'go for it'.”

“Like with a traffic light?” Victor offers. “So I suppose red means 'stop' and yellow means 'stay alert'?”

“Pretty much,” Yuuri returns. “But they can also mean luck in love and money, respectively.” As Victor inserts his own three 100-yen coins into the machine, Yuuri indicates a laminated card pasted on the side, reading off of the 'Fortune Color Guide' printed on it. “Purple capsules mean 'improved relations with friends and/or family', while pink means 'unrequited love', or perhaps 'improved health and beauty'. Blue is 'success in a seemingly impossible endeavor', or simply 'a surprise is coming your way'.”

“How about gold?” Victor asks, and Yuuri turns to see his coach holding up an honest to God, _golden_ gachapon capsule he'd apparently lucked into getting. “What does it mean?”

“Gabai kakkoyoka!” exclaims Amamiya, before remembering to switch to English. “You've drawn a week's worth of amazing luck, buddy!”

“That you did,” Yuuri agrees, giving the guide a quick glance-over. “It says 'godly luck' and 'victory is assured on all fronts' right here.”

Being the first customer to draw the golden gachapon this year, a commemorative photo of Victor standing next to the gachapon machine is duly taken (doubling as their photo for the third Hasetsu mystery), followed by a closeup shot of the capsule's contents: a miniature black-billed magpie in Sagan Tosu's light blue and pink uniform balancing a golden soccer ball on one taloned foot. Amamiya sees them off with an armful of umaibo and fugashi, as well as a bag of unsalted animal crackers to take home to Makkachin.

“Think your dad would like it?” queries Victor, handing Yuuri the soccer-playing magpie figurine while taking a bite off of a puffy brown fugashi. “Speaking of which, what's in yours, Yuuri?”

“Right; I haven't opened it yet.” Yuuri pulls apart his own green capsule to find— “A cat goalie,” he declares, showing the trinket to Victor: a fluffy Siamese cat dressed as a Sagan Tosu goalkeeper.

“Oh! That's Pyo-cha through and through.”

“'Pyo-cha'?”

“Yurio's cat.” Victor briefly fumbles with his smartphone to pull up what appears to be a recent selfie of Yurio scowling into the camera while a cat—predominantly white, but with a black face, tail, ears, and paws—yawns disinterestedly from its napping spot on the blond teenager's stomach. “Pyo-cha's just a nickname, though. The full name's actually rather long: 'Puma Lion Dragon'— or is it 'Panther Tiger Cobra'? Something like that, anyway.”

Yuuri quirks an eyebrow at that. _'Puma Lion'...?_ “Seriously?”

“Seriously.” Victor bobs his head in a staid, solemn nod, soon soundly negated by his blue eyes twinkling impishly. “Personally, however, I've only ever seen the cat answer to 'Pyo-cha'.”

No surprise there, Yuuri thinks. “If you were the cat,” he rejoins, stifling a laugh, “wouldn't you?”

“I'd insist on a better name,” Victor says. “I doubt Makkachin would like me as much if I called him 'Meteor Wolf Star'.”

This time, Yuuri does laugh. “I don't know; 'Meteor Wolf Star' does have a nice ring to it.”

“Makkachin has always been 'Makkachin' to me, though,” Victor hums. Chewing on another bite of fugashi, the older man pauses for a bit, then goes on, “Come to think of it, your poodle's name was 'Vicchan', yes?” There's a note of carefulness to Victor's tone, a tangible yet unspoken air of _Is it all right, or is it still too soon to pry?_

“Yes.” Yuuri looks down, touched but mildly annoyed (mostly at himself, because it _is_ all right, with Victor more than anyone; and he'd never want Victor to ever think otherwise). “Well, 'Vicchan' was only a nickname at first, but everyone ended up calling him that, so—” Yuuri coughs, “So, yeah, it was.”

“'Vicchan',” Victor softly repeats, tapping the tip of the remaining fugashi against his lips. “Correct me if I'm wrong, but isn't that what your mother also calls me?”

“Y-yes?” Yuuri swallows and braces for impact, his face growing hotter by the second. “I mean yes. Yes, it is.”

“Why?”

And there it is, Victor's million-dollar question; and as Yuuri struggles to come up with an honest yet least facepalmingly embarrassing response, he forces himself to meet his coach's gaze.

Victor beats him to the punch, however. Looking concerned, the man straight up asks, “It's not that Mrs. Katsuki thinks I _look_ like Vicchan, is it?”

It's so out of nowhere, so bizarrely removed from the truth, that it elicits a breathless, brittle sort of chuckle from Yuuri. “It's not,” he assures him. “Actually, Victor, it's because—” _I named my dog after you,_ Yuuri would have fessed up, finally, but he is interrupted by a sudden sharp cry.

“Yuuri!” Victor yells, eyes wide. “The ninja's shadow! There it is!”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Gachapon (or gashapon, or gacha, or gacha-gacha) are really well-made capsule toys and mini-accessories. The name originates from the 'gacha' (rattle/clatter) and 'pon' (thump) sounds made when the toy is cranked out/dispensed. And yes, as per episode 1 and an article in PASH! magazine, Yu-topia canonically has gacha-gacha machines at the entrance hall, just across the massage chair area and right before the baths.
> 
> Umaibo is a popular snack tube brand in Japan that comes in many, many flavors, from cheese to teriyaki burger to corn potage.
> 
> Fugashi is baked wheat gluten covered with black/brown sugar, and is a traditional Japanese candy.
> 
> Pyo-cha's full name is Puma Tiger Scorpion. Because Yurio. Of course.
> 
>  **Translations:**  
>  Arigatou - standard Japanese for 'Thanks'  
> Gabai kakkoyoka! - Saga-ben for '(That's) fantastic!'/'(That's) awesome!'/'(That's) so friggin' cool!'  
> ... And that's all for now, sorry! Mystery #4 and onwards will be uploaded by October 31st. In the meantime, any guesses as to the remaining mysteries (LOL _except_ for the ninja's shadow)? Post them in the comments! And once again, thank you for reading! <3


	4. Kagomaru

**Notes for the Chapter:**

>  **Content Warning:** This chapter has Yuuri narrating a ghost story featuring decapitation, murder, and gore. If you wish to avoid that part, skip the section (between the ***) from when Yuuri says _“Er, I forgot to ask, but do you even want to hear it?”_ until the paragraph that starts with _“Wow,” is the first thing Victor breathes after he's done._

**Mystery #4: The Ninja's Shadow  
Ninja no Kage (忍者の影)**

_“On clear summer afternoons, upon the Hour of the Monkey—or around four o'clock, if you prefer,” Nishigori next declares, “an ominous shadow could sometimes be seen at the old market square. People say that it's the shadow of the legendary shinobi, Kagomaru, whose fate remains unknown, haunting the weather-beaten streets of Hasetsu up to this day.”_

It takes a bit of angling, but they eventually do take a photo of Hasetsu's fourth mystery: a solitary shadow stretching across the open road, in the shape of a robed figure wielding a pair of kusarigama— but with an overturned basket for a head.

“It's not really a basket, of course,” Yuuri clarifies, handing back Victor's smartphone. “It's tengui—a straw hat that certain Buddhist monks used to wear, covering the entire head—”

“That still looks like a basket,” Victor puts in.

Yuuri sighs. “That still looks very much like a basket, yes,” he concedes. “Incidentally, there's a debate whether the 'kago' in Kagomaru's name refers to that. Depending on the kanji used,” Yuuri takes out his own phone to illustrate, “ _kago_ could mean 'basket', or 'palanquin', or—and this is the one most academics accept—'divine protection'. Popular belief, however, is that it does refer to 'basket', seeing as the stories usually feature Kagomaru disguised as a travelling monk wearing one such 'basket'.”

“Count me in on that one,” Victor declares, stepping forward to more closely examine the shadow on the pavement. “It's sensible enough, isn't it? And I must admit, calling the man 'The Basket-Headed Ninja' is simply too tempting to resist.”

“Funny you should say that,” Yuuri says, cracking a wan smile as he pockets his phone. “Because, according to one tale at least, it could have been a lot more literal than you think.”

Victor blinks. “You don't mean—?”

Yuuri nods. “Of course Nishigori didn't mention _that_ part—” He shrugs, “for obvious reasons. But one moonless night, so the story goes—” Abruptly Yuuri stiffens, shooting Victor a sidelong glance, “Er, I forgot to ask, but do you even want to hear it?”

***

“Of course!” Victor responds. “You can't stop now; do go on with it.”

“I— All right, then.” Gathering his thoughts, Yuuri looks to the ground, and to the shadow still stretched over it. “One moonless night, it so happened that the ninja Kagomaru's luck ran out while on a mission. The men he was sent to slay—a group of masterless samurai turned bandits—were able to surround him and lop off his head. Instead of falling, however, Kagomaru's headless body continued to move on its own, fighting his enemies off and even managing to escape. Regardless, his pursuers believed him dead—”

“Quite,” Victor interposes. “I mean, who wouldn't?”

“That's true,” Yuuri affirms. “And so those men had the biggest shock of their lives when the following night Kagomaru returned; but this time with that 'basket' hat, in place of a human head, on his shoulders.”

Victor furrows his brows. “Was it really him, though, and not an impostor?”

“That's exactly what they thought—” Yuuri allows, “—at first. In the ensuing fight, however, one of them managed to knock that 'basket' off the so-called impostor's shoulders...” He pauses, partly for effect, partly to catch his breath, “revealing, to everyone's horror, that where the intruder's head should have been, _there was nothing but a bloody stump of neck_.”

“Oh.” Victor visibly shivers. “What happened next?”

“His attackers fled,” Yuuri replies, appending, “those who didn't 'instantly die of terror', anyway. Kagomaru caught and killed them all the same— save for one, who barricaded himself inside an abandoned shrine and lived to tell the grisly tale.” He waves a hand towards the shadow, meeting Victor's eyes. “And that's pretty much it. Kagomaru wouldn't be seen again for years and years afterward; but when he would, it would be in tattered monk's robes, chain and sickle in hand... and always, _always_ with that 'basket' on his shoulders, covering everything but the barest inch of neck.”

***

“Wow,” is the first thing Victor breathes after he's done. “As gruesome as that was, I must say you've got a knack for telling scary stories yourself, Yuuri.”

“You think so?”

Victor's gaze is soft but sure. “I know so.”

“Thanks,” Yuuri says, glancing away awkwardly, “I-I guess.” He's blushing again; he just knows it.

Beside him Victor makes a noncommittal sound, before noting, seemingly from out of the blue, that— “The shadow's changed.”

It has, indeed. Nearly half an hour later Kagomaru's silhouette is no more; the overlapping shadows from various tall objects around the square—a lamppost, a store sign, a gnarled, leafless tree—shifted by the westward sun just enough so that the composite no longer resembled anything in particular.

“It already _is_ well past four o'clock,” Yuuri tells Victor.

“Still, it's rather amazing, isn't it?” says the man. “A ninja's shadow made entirely out of streetlamps and shop signs—oh, and a really old tree. And none of it planned; it all just—” Victor makes a vague gesture with his hands, “—happened.”

“That's what makes it a mystery, I suppose,” Yuuri returns.

“A Hasetsu mystery; the grisliest by far,” Victor intones, checking the list he'd made on his phone. “Three more to go, and the next—”

“—Is over at Hasetsu Castle, so we should probably get a move on,” Yuuri finishes for him.

Victor nods. “Let's go, then.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Advanced Happy Halloween! Here's a short update. Kagomaru and his grisly story are inventions of mine, inspired by old Japanese ghost stories such as the ones retold in Lafcadio Hearn's _Kwaidan_.
> 
> The Buddhist monks with tengui (the 'basket' hats) were called 'komusou'. Masterless samurai were 'ronin'/'rounin'. (Trivia: In the present day, ronin is also Japanese slang for someone who's failed his/her college entrance exam and may either drop out or retake it.)


	5. ‘Dogan shita to?’

**#5: The Voice in the Well**  
Ido no Koe (井戸の声)

_“Now, this one you probably already know,” Nishigori says. “It's about the old well outside Hasetsu Cas—”_

_“ ‘Dogan shita to’!” Axel, Lutz, and Loop exclaim in unison. “It's ‘Dogan shita to’, isn't it?”_

_“Got it in one.” Nishigori grins approvingly. “Back then—nearly a decade it's been—the story caused quite a stir; it made national news, and even got covered by foreign media. And all of it because, for three crazy weeks, at least, we were fairly convinced that there was a spirit inside that well; **one that could speak.** And what it said was, of course—”_

“‘Dogan shita to?’” Victor quotes, pronouncing the words with obvious relish. “Yuuri, would you believe me if I told you it sounds almost like ‘Just catch up to that staff’ in Russian?”

Yuuri's mouth quirks at this. “Russian or no,” he rejoins, genuinely curious, “why would anyone say ‘Just catch up to that staff’ in the first place?”

“I'm sure there can be any number of bizarre scenarios,” Victor amiably returns. “Speaking of which...” The man trails off, kneeling down to quickly snap a photo of the fifth Hasetsu mystery: an old enclosed well from which a voice had once asked, _‘What's the matter?’_ in the Saga dialect.

Then he straightens back up, surveying the rest of their surroundings: the cherry trees and the climbing wisterias, the benches overlooking the late afternoon view of the town below; the five-tiered tower of Hasetsu Castle itself, which is just a façade, really, built around a ninja house.

“You know,” notes Victor after a beat, “we've been up here so many times, and yet it seems there's always something new to learn about this place. In a way, Yuuri,” the man goes on, smile soft, “I suppose it's kind of like you.”

“... Thanks?” Is that a compliment? It sounded like one, and made his heart skip a beat, so Yuuri decides that yes, it is. “To tell you the truth, Victor, I—” He clears his throat, but still stutters his reply, “I-I feel the same. That is, I could say the same of you.”

_You never cease to surprise me._

“... Good; that's quite— that makes me very happy.” Victor clears his throat as well, for some reason. “Ah, what is it that we're supposed to say to the well again? ‘Gomen nasai’?”

“It's ‘Gomen kudasai’,” utters Yuuri. To demonstrate (and _maybe_ to hide his umpteenth blush of the day), he approaches the open rim of the well and leans over it, cupping his hands in front of his mouth and yelling, “Gomen kudasai!” into it.

The brick-and-mortar walls carry his words all the way down to the murky water beneath, repeating them half a dozen or so times until finally fading into silence.

Sidling up beside him, Victor appears to wait, unmoving, for the first few seconds before letting his own shoulders fall. “Aww,” he pouts in disappointment, “No one's answering.”

“What do you expect?” Yuuri replies, amused. “The myna's long since gone, after all.”

For _that_ , as had transpired some ten years back, had been the true 'voice of the well' outside Hasetsu Castle: a common hill myna—someone's escaped pet—who'd made a nest within a crevice of the well's inner wall. The bird's owner, an elderly man from Arita, had apparently trained it to say _‘Dogan shita to?’_ in response to _‘Gomen kudasai’_. It had taken three weeks—and several interviews of the locals regarding 'the legend of the talking well spirit'—before the myna was discovered by a local policeman and an overly enthusiastic 'freelance journalist'. (The latter had only narrowly avoided falling face first into the well thanks to the timely arrival of the former.)

“Still, you never know,” Victor ventures valiantly on, following Yuuri down the many cobbled steps that led to the base of Hasetsu Castle—and Ice Castle Hasetsu, just further down the road, “What if there really _is_ a spirit in the well? There's this legend, isn't there?”

“That one likely came about because of another legend: that talking to the well brings good luck—but only if you're polite about it,” Yuuri says. “And there are plenty more. Enough for the well to probably have its own 'seven mysteries'.” With every other footfall, he proceeds to enumerate accordingly: “Drawing well water at night during Obon makes kyoukotsu—a 'crazy bones' youkai—appear. A kappa used to live in the well and charge thirsty travelers for a drink. Oh, and sprinkling well water into the sky will make it rain the following day, while mixing in sugar will make it rain candy.”

  


“You forgot the red string test,” Yuuko-chan—Nishigori Yuuko—would point out a bit later, having met them just outside Ice Castle Hasetsu with the news that the rink would be good to go come Monday morning. Nishigori and the triplets would be picking her up soon for their weekly trip to the Saturday night market. Looking over her Instagram feed, she remarks, “So you two really _are_ completing the seven mysteries quest, huh. How far along are you?”

“We're done with the first five,” Yuuri informs her.

“What was it about a red string?” Victor inquires, intrigued.

“A couple would braid a rope using red mokume strings, see?” Yuuko-chan cheerfully explains to Victor. “Then they'd use that rope to draw a bucket of water from the well. If they're able to do it without the red rope breaking, that means the two are fated lovers, destined to be together.”

“Ah,” Victor exclaims, “how romantic!”

Not that they've got the time—or enough bundles of red mokume strings—to take the test at the moment, despite Victor playfully wondering aloud whether they should go back up to the well and try it.

“Besides,” Yuuri reasons further, “we still have a couple more mysteries to look into, don't we?”

“I suppose we should finish those first,” Victor grudgingly concedes. “Another time, then?”

Feeling his face flush, Yuuri nods. “S-sure.”

Yuuko-chan (who may or may not have been furtively throwing him a look that read _‘Yuuri-kun, I'm your friend, so I won't tattle about that time I caught you kissing your Victor Nikiforov wallpaper, but **seriously** ’_ during this exchange) offers to get them their mokume strings the week after Obon. Nishigori and the triplets arrive in the family minivan right as dusk settles in, Axel, Lutz, and Loop excitedly bombarding them with questions about the mysteries they've seen.

“Will you be heading to the sixth mystery now?” Axel asks.

“Yes,” Victor replies. “And afterwards, we'll be catching up with you three at the night market.”

“Where the seventh is,” Loop utters, nodding thoughtfully. “Who knows, maybe we'd find it before you do!”

“It'll be on our Insta,” says Lutz. “We'll tag you both, of course.”

“Don't get too far ahead of yourselves,” Nishigori laughingly lectures, then gives Yuuri and Victor a salute. “Well, we're off. Good hunting, you two.”

“Take care, yeah?” chimes in Yuuko-chan.

“Take care.”

They duly see the Nishigoris off. Beneath the purple and gold of the darkening sky, the streetlamps light up one by one as the minivan drives down the road.

“For a day off, it's been pretty hectic, hasn't it?” Victor comments, doing a few easy stretches.

Yuuri's lips curve into a small smile. “I could carry you, if you like,” he half-teasingly replies. “If you're too tired at this late stage, that is.”

“ _Yuuri_.” Victor shoots him an injured look. An idea suddenly seems to spring to mind, however, and the silver-haired man beams brightly at him. “Only if you'll carry me bridal style,” Victor appends, eyes twinkling.

“I'll, uh,” Glancing up at the darkening sky, Yuuri swallows, “I'll think about it.”

“See that you do,” Victor hums happily. “Let's continue on, shall we?”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The legends surrounding the well of Hasetsu Castle are all made up. 'Mokume ito' (lit. 'wood-eye thread'/'wood grain thread') are strings made from the peeled-off barks of trees that are then hung out to dry.
> 
>  **Translations:**  
>  Dogan shita to? - Saga-ben for ‘What's up?’ or ‘What's the matter?’  
> Gomen nasai - '(I'm) sorry.'  
> Gomen kudasai - standard Japanese for 'Anyone home?' or 'Excuse me, is anybody there?'


	6. Oni

**#6: The Laughing Ogre-Tile Bridge  
Warai Onigawara-Bashi (笑い鬼瓦橋)**

_“The sixth Hasetsu mystery comes from an old folk tale about a thief and an old stone bridge—” Nishigori's voice drops ever so slightly, “—and an ogre; A laughing ogre. Well, a laughing onigawara, to be more precise; onigawara being an ornamental roof tile with the face of an oni—a fearsome horned ogre—on it. There's a bridge in Hasetsu with one such ogre-tile, imaginatively named Onigawara-Bashi; 'Ogre-Tile Bridge'. It's a bridge that people must cross  **very**  carefully after dark... lest they be mocked by the laughing onigawara like our luckless thief—Goutou-kun—had.”_

Night has well and truly fallen by the time Victor and Yuuri arrive at Laughing Ogre-Tile Bridge, a brisk ten-minute walk east of Ice Castle Hasetsu. Gracefully arching across a canal, mottled grey beneath the fluorescent glare of the streetlights, the bridge holds nothing to distinguish it from the handful of other Edo-era stone bridges still scattered around town, save for one: the onigawara mounted on the lefthand railing along the absolute middle of it.

“Not really something you'd like to see when crossing the bridge at night,” Yuuri declares, peering at the ogre-tile from behind his glasses. Painted a deep bluish grey, the 'laughing ogre' has wild hair, a scraggly beard, and blazing, baleful eyes; Two stubby horns protrude from either side of its head, with a long tongue lolling, snake-like, from its fanged, snarling mouth.

“I doubt anyone would like to see this anywhere else, for that matter,” interposes Victor. “It's like a gargoyle's head combined with all those masks at Yu-topia. That 'hanyuu' one, in particular.”

“I think you mean 'hannya',” Yuuri offers. “And yes, the onigawara  _are_  the gargoyle statues of Japan. In so far as they're placed on top of buildings to ward off bad luck, in any case.”

“This one's posted on a bridge, though,” Victor points out, indicating the ogre-tile.

“That's part of the mystery,” Yuuri replies. “Supposedly it was placed there under the orders of a priest of some sort, who sternly warned that a curse would befall anyone who tries to vandalize or remove it.”

“And  _has_  anybody tried, regardless?”

“A few. And every one of them fell ill, or suffered terrible nightmares shortly after—” Yuuri pushes his glasses up, “If the stories are to be believed, anyway. Nowadays, no one dares; ever since word got around that the curse adversely affects the size of the offender's—er—genitals.”

Victor laughs. “Nothing like the threat of shrinking balls to deter vandals,” the man observes, thereafter amending, “Well, except for that 'Goutou-kun' guy, I suppose.”

“'Goutou' is just another Japanese word for 'thief', you know,” Yuuri says. “Nishigori could just as well have called him 'Dorobou-san'.”

“Ooh, then perhaps I'll call him 'Vora' when I retell the story,” Victor lightly rejoins. “Or maybe 'Vorona'—a crow.”

“Either sounds nice,” Yuuri responds. “In fact, why don't you give it a try? Retelling the story.”

Victor gives him a questioning look. “You mean right now, Yuuri?”

“Please.” Yuuri colors slightly, and hurriedly adds, “Th-that is, if it's all right with you.”

“Very well,” Victor says with a winsome smile. “But only because you asked so nicely.” Clearing his throat, the man begins, “Once upon a time—”

Yuuri snorts out a laugh. “A fairy tale intro, really?”

“ _Yuuri._ ” Victor's blue eyes narrow at him. “You didn't ask me to do this just so you can make fun of me, did you?”

“I—  _no!_ ” Yuuri sputters, waving his hands in agitation. “Please, go on.” He bows. “I'm sorry I laughed.”

Duly mollified, Victor begins again. “ _Once upon a time,_  there lived a thief called—hm, let's go with 'Vora', yes? And this Vora stole a sackful of gold and jewels one night from a rich money lender's mansion. But while he managed to abscond from the mansion with hardly any fuss, evading the town guard was another matter altogether; Unable to escape through the route he'd planned, Vora was forced to take a detour through this very street,” Victor spreads his arms, nodding once at the onigawara, “and this very bridge.”

“With the ogre-tile,” Yuuri intones.

“With the ogre-tile, yes,” echoes Victor. “So there our friend Vora was, his bag of loot on his back, running as fast as his legs could take him. Right as he reached the middle of the bridge, however, he tripped and fell flat on his face. And that was when he heard someone laughing derisively:

_‘Ha! Serves you right!’_  crowed a raucous voice from somewhere close by (Victor, ever the consummate performer, alters his voice accordingly).  _‘Idiot~! You're a fumble-footed fool, Vora Vorayevich!’_ ”

“What, the ogre knows his name now—complete with patronymic?”

“In my story it does; and you're spoiling the reveal, Yuuri,” Victor chides evenly. “I'm about to get to the part where Vora picks himself up and sees it's the ogre-tile laughing at him.”

“Sorry, sorry.” Yuuri motions for his coach to continue. “So, Vora picked himself up—?”

“—And turning towards the sound, he saw that it's the ogre-tile laughing at him,” Victor completes. “With a jolt, he stumbled backwards and fell yet again— this time on his ass, his sack of treasure landing with a muffled clink beside him. This of course got the ogre-tile laughing even more:

_‘What's the matter; never seen an ogre's face before?’_  it jeered.

_‘You can talk!’_  cried Vora.

_‘Of course I can talk,’_  the ogre-tile replied.  _‘I do have a mouth, haven't I? And a working pair of eyes, which can see your sorry self; and a perfectly functional nose, which can very much smell that you—’_  The ogre made a noise of disgust,  _‘—haven't bathed in days.’_ ”

“You've made the ogre a lot more talkative in this one, too,” notes Yuuri.

“Just to liven things up,” Victor returns. “It makes it all the more interesting, don't you think?”

“Well, it  _does_  make the thief losing his temper all too easy to believe,” Yuuri concedes.

“Exactly,” Victor says. “And indeed, Vora did lose his temper over the ogre's mockery:

_‘Stop making fun of me, you fiend!’_  yelled the thief, shaking his fist at the ogre-tile.  _‘One more insult and I'll smash you to bits; See if you can laugh at me then!’_

But the ogre seemed utterly unfazed by this.  _‘Oho!’_  it exclaimed with a cocky grin,  _‘I'd like to see you try, Vora Vorayevich! Although, if you end up kissing the ground one more time—and let's face it, you clumsy oaf: you will— I dare say you might as well marry it!’_

Goaded into a fury, Vora stood up and threw the first thing he could get a hold of at the ogre-tile. It missed the onigiri—”

“'Onigawara'.”

“—It missed the  _onigawara_  by a hair's breadth,” Victor goes on, scarcely missing a beat, “but sailed right over the railing; ultimately falling, with a telltale  _'splash!'_ , into the water below the bridge.” His lips form a lopsided smile. “And what was it that Vora unknowingly threw into the water, you ask? Needless to say, it was...  _his loot bag_.”

“'The end',” Yuuri says.

Victor nods. “More or less. Realizing what he'd just done, Vora gave a horrified shout, and jumped into the canal to try and salvage his bag. All in vain; the town guard caught him shortly after, still frantically searching for his gold and jewels in the water, with the ogre-tile's laughter, loud and mocking, ringing in his ears all the while.”

“Poor fellow,” Yuuri comments afterward. “Thievery aside, I almost kind of feel sorry for the guy. That Vora Vor—uh, how do you say it again?”

“'Vorayevich',” Victor supplies. “And I personally think he received his just deserts; if he'd ignored the ogre's taunts and had simply run off, he would have gotten away just fine, wouldn't he?”

“I guess,” Yuuri agrees. “But if he had, where would our sixth mystery be?”

“Elsewhere, no doubt; Oh! And now that you mention it—” Stepping back, Victor takes this time to photograph the part of the bridge with the ogre-tile on it. He stumbles, however, rattling the wooden boards beneath, then blinks in surprise. “It's laughing!” Victor exclaims, leaning back against the opposite railing. “The ogre's actually laughing, Yuuri!”

“It's water sloshing under the bridge,” Yuuri reminds the other man, catching the vaguely hissing sound— _ha-sha, ha-sha_ —as he helps Victor right himself. “With a hard enough impact, the sound carries through to the hollowed-out ogre-tile's mouth. It just so happens that it sounds like someone laughing.”

“But only at night?” questions Victor with a slight tilt of his head. “That's the part I find rather hard to swallow.”

“Well...” Yuuri squints into the distance, struggling to remember, “I think our middle school science teacher explained that to us once. Although I can't recall whether it has something to do with the water level at night, the density of the stone, or the water temperature.”

“Then I suppose it shall remain a mystery,” Victor says, fiddling once again with his phone. This time around, the picture of Ogre-Tile Bridge is taken without incident. “Until we meet your science teacher, that is.”

“Maybe she'll be at the night market,” Yuuri returns. “Let's ask her then.”

“Right,” Victor replies. “Who knows, maybe she could also help us out with mystery number seven.” He beams. “Can you believe we're almost done, Yuuri?”

“Let's just hope we really are able to complete it,” Yuuri says.

“We will,” Victor rejoins, and winks. “I am with you, after all.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Apologies for the delay! And for officially breaking the promise to finish this by Halloween... But hey, at least we've only got one mystery left? ^^; Thank you for your patience and for leaving comments! Let's hope mystery #7 will be done before Yuuri's birthday on the 29th.
> 
> Hasetsu having stone bridges built during the Edo period (1615-1868) is yet another thing I've taken creative liberties with, as is the 'Ogre-Tile Bridge'. ( **Edit:** I _was_ going to edit this and say the 'wooden boards beneath' the stone bridge was a mistake, but apparently I could get away with having wooden formwork beneath the stone bridge that the builders didn't bother removing for some reason. So, yay, I guess? ^o^)
> 
> **1 Dec 2017:** ... I'm sorry to say this, but I need two more weeks to finish the final chapter. Peace! And thanks for understanding!
> 
> **Translations:**  
>  Onigawara - Standard Japanese that's literally 'ogre-tile'  
> Goutou and Dorobou; Vor - Two Japanese and one Russian word for 'thief'  
> Vorona - Russian for 'crow'  
> Onigiri - 'rice ball'; although if you use certain kanji it could literally mean 'ogre cutter'.


End file.
